Unmasking Deception, page 17
“Confound the boy. I need him!” Lord Richard exploded. “I need both of you!” As if recalling the rest of his company, he turned and bowed again to Mrs. Dove. “Forgive my language, ma’am. It is my fervent hope that, in fact, I have no need of these miscreants of mine. Would you mind very much telling me if Miss Dove is at home?”
“Viola? She is in her chamber,” Mrs. Dove said wildly, clearly trying to remember what her excuse had been to avoid the musical evening and the story she had to stick to.
“No, she ain’t,” Napper interrupted. “She’s safe with His Nibs and on her way home.”
“Please sit down, my lord,” Mrs. Dove said faintly. “May I send for some refreshment?”
“No, I thank you,” Lord Richard said absently, although he grasped the glass of brandy Catherine thrust into his hand as though it were his last lifeline.
Her mother sat down again, shaking her head. “I don’t understand any of this, sir. My children tell me Viola is missing. This man tells me she’s been abducted, but someone whose name he won’t say is bringing her home… Can you make sense of any of this?”
Lord Richard took a sizable swallow of brandy. “There is no sense to any of this. The important thing is that Miss Dove is safe.” He swung on Napper once more. “Does Minton live?”
“Oh, aye. He’ll live to hang,” Napper said with unusual ferocity.
For an instant, the faintest smile lightened Lord Richard’s harsh face. “I believe he will.”
“The other important thing,” Mrs. Dove said, trying to focus once more, “is the matter of my daughter’s reputation. To have it blighted by a—a bounder I foolishly believed to be a gentleman, though of little standing in the world—”
“No word of this will ever escape me,” Lord Richard interrupted. “You may likewise depend on the discretion of my…servants.”
Napper snorted and finished his tea.
“I am at a loss,” Catherine’s mother announced. “If this Minton is a bad man, what of his brother? Are there any gentlemen left in the world?” She cast a quick, appalled glance at Lord Richard. “Present company excepted, of course. I know your family to be unimpeachable on that score.”
Which was an outright lie, when she knew perfectly well that Lord Richard’s brother had been sentenced to transportation for murder and was still a fugitive.
Since everything was now likely to come out sooner rather than later, Catherine said bluntly, “My lord, how did you know Viola was missing?”
“Curiously enough, I had a message, which came indirectly from her, via an inn messenger boy, a postilion, and someone called Gavelston.”
“Gavelston?” Cousin Frank Trewthorpe suddenly jerked up his head, staring at his lordship, who lifted his eyebrows.
“I believe so, yes. Why, do you know him?”
“I know his daughter,” Frank said aggressively. “Why would she—or he!—send to you?”
“I’m not sure, but as I said, I suspect the message came indirectly from Miss Dove.”
“Viola sent to you?” Along with everyone else, Mrs. Dove stared at Lord Richard. “Why?”
Catherine sighed at the hint of speculation, even hope, in her mother’s eyes.
“I believe she thought of me as a friend with the resources to help,” Lord Richard said smoothly. “Without involving her family. For if Trewthorpe or other cousins had gone charging out of London to her rescue, people would have noticed. And talked.”
“That is very true,” Mrs. Dove said, impressed by the argument.
“There is no other attachment between us,” he added, faintly amused. “Improper or otherwise.”
“Oh.”
Lord Richard cast a sardonic look at Frank. “That goes for Miss Gavelston, as well as Miss Dove.”
“None of my business,” Frank said, flustered. “My concern—all our concern—is for Viola’s safety. Should I go and escort her from wherever she is?”
Lord Richard glanced at Napper. “Exactly how long is she likely to be?”
“Not long,” came the unhelpful reply.
“More brandy?” Catherine asked helpfully.
“Good evening,” a quiet, familiar voice said calmly.
“Good evening, dear,” Mrs. Dove replied distractedly, with barely a glance at the newcomer, before the importance of the moment finally struck her. “Viola!”
The entire family launched themselves at Viola. Naturally, Pup got there first, barking amidst the squeals of joy and the barrage of questions. But only Catherine seemed to notice that after a mere one bound and a hearty lick, he bolted out of the half-open door.
Leaving Viola to everyone else, Catherine opened the door fully.
Pup lay ecstatically on his back, legs in the air, while Lord Dominic crouched by his side, an amused smile on his lips, tickling the canine tummy. Becoming aware of Catherine’s observation, he glanced up and gave her a faint, apologetic smile, which suddenly became fixed.
He rose. Pup jumped up, capering, as though proud of being the first to have found this old friend. But everyone else now clustered in the doorway, staring at him.
“You’re Lord Dominic Gorse!” Cousin Frank exclaimed.
*
Viola and Dominic had entered the house quietly, via the mews and the kitchen door.
“I’m tired of hiding you in the cellar,” Viola had said abruptly. “We have proof of your innocence. I think it’s time we told my mother the truth.”
Dominic had hesitated as if he had grown too used to not inflicting his dangerous presence on people. “I’ll just step inside to make sure all is well with your family.”
In other words, she realized with some wonder, he wanted to be certain her family accepted her return without causing Viola further trouble. In all honesty, she knew her mother would do no worse than scold, but it was novel and sweet to be so cossetted.
As they slipped along the passage from the kitchen door, Cook, with her back to them, was grumbling about sandwiches. Viola took Dominic’s hand, loving the way his fingers curled immediately about hers, and drew him through the baize door and upstairs, toward the faint hum of voices coming from the drawing room.
But on the landing, he halted, kissed her fingers, and pushed her gently toward the drawing room door. She knew that once he’d heard her family’s acceptance, he would go. She would open the door to introduce the hero of the day to her mother, and he would be gone. She would lose this beautiful new closeness.
On impulse, she turned back, seizing his face between her hands and kissing him. His jaw was rough with stubble, his lips warm, firm, and smiling as they kissed her back. Whatever happened after this, she thought, whatever difficulties they faced in the future, she would always have this evening to remember and cherish.
She rested her forehead against his for a moment, then turned and walked into the drawing room. At her mother’s calm, distracted greeting, she wondered if anyone had actually noticed she’d been gone. Only then she realized the room was full of people, including Frank Trewthorpe, Lord Richard, and Napper, who appeared, bizarrely, to have been taking tea with her mother.
And then Pup and the children launched themselves at her, and she only just managed to stay upright, and Mama was there, too, eyes both anxious and relieved. Several times during her adventure, she had wondered if she would ever get back to them, if Minton could indeed keep her with him. So, she hugged her family back with gratitude and enthusiasm and knew, with exhaustion, that everything would be fine.
Only Catherine, evercurious, had opened the drawing room door. And now, everyone could see Dominic playing with the dog. He rose to his full height, but before he could even bow, Frank blurted out his name.
“You’re Lord Dominic Gorse!”
Lord Richard groaned, but already the children were dragging his brother into the room. Lord Richard firmly closed the door and leaned his shoulder against it.
At last, Dominic was free enough to bow to her mother. “Forgive the intrusion. I did not mean to disturb you, merely wished to see Miss Dove restored to the bosom of her family.”
Her mother looked in alarm from him to Viola and Frank.
“Lord Dominic Gorse,” Viola said firmly. “As Frank pointed out. Sir, my mother, Mrs. Dove. I should point out that Lord Dominic, together with Mr. Napper, were responsible for freeing me from abduction.”
“Then whatever else you’ve done, I have to thank you,” Mrs. Dove managed. “And you’re welcome in my house. As long as you don’t tell anyone.” Something else seemed to strike her then, and she frowned at Viola. “How do the children know him?”
“They came upon him in the cellar,” Viola said apologetically.
“In the…” Mrs. Dove sat down heavily. “Do you know, I think the strain has been too much for me.”
Catherine poured a glass of brandy and pushed it into her mother’s hand. “To restore you. Anyone else?”
“I think we’ve intruded long enough,” Dominic said hastily. “And will bid you goodnight.”
At once, Napper ambled along beside him, and Lord Richard eased his shoulder off the door.
“One thing,” Richard said. “You are all aware of my brother’s…trouble, so I will just say your discretion over the next few days will be appreciated. But we do now have evidence of his innocence which will be brought before—”
“You do?” Dominic interrupted. “So do we!”
“Then let us leave these good people and compare notes,” Lord Richard said wryly.
Dominic bowed with a flourish, winked at the children, and flashed a quick, intimate smile at Viola before he followed his brother from the room. Napper bowed awkwardly and hurried after them, muttering, “Thanks for the tea.”
“Thank you,” Viola called after him.
“Indeed,” her mother said hastily.
The silence in the room lasted until the front door closed.
“What haven’t you been telling me?” Mrs. Dove asked ominously.
“It was all quite by accident,” Viola assured her. “And it was always clear he was innocent, so though I meant to keep the children away from him, I didn’t really mind when they stumbled in. And clearly, it has all worked out for the best because if it hadn’t been for the children telling him and Napper, I’d probably be locked up in the unspeakable Minton’s house to the loss of everyone’s reputation and subsequent misery.”
Her mother blinked. Adrian grinned.
Frank said carefully, “Exactly where does Miss Gavelston fit into these events?”
“Miss Gavelston?” Viola repeated in surprise. “She doesn’t.”
There came the briefest of knocks, heralding Sarah with another tray of food, which Viola received with effusive thanks. Until she saw it, she hadn’t realized she was hungry.
“I missed dinner,” she said apologetically.
“Lord Richard Gorse,” Frank pursued, “was given a message he believed came from her uncle.”
Viola lowered her fork, her eyes widening. “That was your Miss Gavelston? How wonderful! And they did get a message back to Lord Richard!”
“It isn’t that wonderful,” Frank said resentfully. “It means her uncle has taken her away from London.”
“That is true,” Viola said thoughtfully as new ideas began to whirl in her head. “But I wonder if he might be willing to bring her back…”
Chapter Sixteen
Yawning and scratching, Dominic wandered into Richard’s sitting room the following day. “Rich, where the devil did—” He broke off, ready to beat a hasty retreat when he realized Richard had a visitor. Which was odd because he had heard no knock on the door. His mind must have been too full of Viola.
The visitor stood up and turned, just as Dominic was backing out.
“Ha!” said his father with undisguised triumph. “I knew he was harboring you here!”
“Then I suppose you have brought the Runners,” Dominic said, curling his lip. He made no move to his father, neither bowed nor approached.
“Of course, I have not brought the Runners,” Lord Sedgemoor growled. “What do you take me for?”
“I take you for the man who denied his son a fair trial for fear of embarrassment,” Dominic retorted. “Who never visited him once in prison and stood aside to let him hang.”
The old man’s face flushed, no doubt with anger rather than shame. “I saw to it you would not hang! I arranged transportation and an easy voyage at that.”
“Why, how kind,” Dominic marveled. “Or would have been had I actually killed anyone.”
“Yes, well, how was I supposed to know that? You’d gone to the devil, Dominic, and you never told me you hadn’t done it.”
Dominic stared at him, his lips thinning. “I shouldn’t have had to tell you.”
His father turned away. “Perhaps not,” he admitted, taking Dominic by surprise. “I have made many mistakes with you. I know you think I should have bought you a commission and sent you off to war, like Richard.”
“Well, and look how I turned out,” Richard said impatiently. “Do we have to go over ancient ground yet again?”
“I only bring it up before he does!” their father shot back. “If it’s any consolation, Dominic, I realized when they locked you up that I should have bought you that commission after all. It is fatal to leave a young man of your energies on the town with nothing to do but rake up hell. I was trying to make it right, give you another chance in Australia. And in any case, once you were gone, I meant to fight behind the scenes for your pardon.”
“An innocent man doesn’t need a pardon,” Dominic said coldly.
“No, he needs evidence,” Richard intervened. “Which we now have. Sit down, Dom, and stop bearing grudges. Our father thought he was acting for the best. We all did, as you know. We all freely apologize. Papa has already set the wheels in motion to have you freed, but in the meantime, we should consider how best to have Minton face the rightful charges.”
“The difficulty,” his father said, sitting down again in the most comfortable chair, “is doing so before the Runners find you. I would suggest we stop them looking.”
Dominic couldn’t help it. He walked further into the room and sat down. “How?”
*
It wasn’t entirely surprising that Viola rose later than usual the day after her adventure. Her family tiptoed around, letting her sleep. In fact, she was wide awake, pressed into the pillows and smiling as she recalled in delicious detail, not her abduction, but Dominic’s rescue, his kisses, every word, every touch, and embrace.
And he wanted to marry her once his innocence was proved, and he was free to marry. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined anyone like Dominic would fall in love with her. Of course, there was no one else like Dominic, but still… In truth, she had never actually imagined she could fall in love with anyone. No one had ever affected her as Dominic did. He, this feeling, completely overwhelmed her and yet made her deliriously happy.
She threw the covers off at last and hummed some of the music she recalled from last night, while she washed and dressed and combed her hair. No one else was in the breakfast parlor when she went downstairs, but she was still eating when Amelia Hornchurch swept in.
“Viola, thank God!” she exclaimed, throwing herself in the chair beside her. “What in the world have you been up to?”
“What do you mean?” Viola asked warily.
“Your cousin Frank called on us yesterday at a very odd hour and asked some even odder questions! Eventually, it transpired he was trying to find out if you were with us, which of course, you weren’t. But I had the devil of a job explaining to Matthew—who has come home, by the way, and everything was wonderful until Frank Trewthorpe turned up and made him jealous.”
“Jealous?” Viola repeated, following the tale with difficulty. “Because he was looking for me? Oh, no, Amelia, you must have that wrong.”
“No, no,” Amelia said impatiently. “Matthew was suspicious of Frank and thought you were Frank’s excuse for turning up. Mind you, I don’t entirely blame Matthew for thinking Frank’s visit suspicious, for he did seem very awkward, not to say furtive!”
“Oh dear, this hasn’t really caused more trouble for you, has it?” Viola said guiltily.
“Oh, no, I petted Matthew out of it, if you must know.”
“Good, because I assure you Frank’s affections are engaged quite elsewhere. In fact, although he is more or less the same age as you and me, I have a feeling he regards us very much as older women.”
Amelia giggled and helped herself to a slice of toast while Viola poured her some tea. “Yes, but where were you?” Amelia demanded, coming back to her original question. “To have got your cousin so anxious to find you?” She lowered her voice. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Lord Dominic Gorse, does it?”
“Well, actually, yes, sort of. But if I tell you this, Amelia, you really mustn’t tell a soul, for if it gets out, we shall all be ruined, and Lord Dominic could be executed before we’ve even proved his innocence.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. “You know I’d never tell a soul! But if you don’t tell me, Vee, I shall die of curiosity.”
As Viola told the tale, Amelia’s jaw showed a tendency to drop, and by the end, her eyes were positively popping.
“Oh my!” she exclaimed at last. “How wonderfully, madly, recklessly romantic of you to end up at Maida Gardens where you first met! I am so jealous of this adventure of yours! But Viola, do you actually love him?”
There was a rare streak of worry in Amelia’s expression. But they had been in the habit of telling each other everything since childhood, so Viola nodded.
“Do you think,” Amelia asked hesitantly, “that he loves you? He is a frightful rake, you know.”
“I do know.”
“And neither of you has a fortune, by all accounts. Perhaps you could live in a garret in Paris, among the artists. That would be romantic.”
“But probably quite uncomfortable,” Viola said, laughing. “I am not thinking about the future, for once—at least not beyond seeing Dominic acquitted. I shall just enjoy the present. Now, tell me about Matthew and how you made it up. Do you think you understand each other better now?”
“Viola? She is in her chamber,” Mrs. Dove said wildly, clearly trying to remember what her excuse had been to avoid the musical evening and the story she had to stick to.
“No, she ain’t,” Napper interrupted. “She’s safe with His Nibs and on her way home.”
“Please sit down, my lord,” Mrs. Dove said faintly. “May I send for some refreshment?”
“No, I thank you,” Lord Richard said absently, although he grasped the glass of brandy Catherine thrust into his hand as though it were his last lifeline.
Her mother sat down again, shaking her head. “I don’t understand any of this, sir. My children tell me Viola is missing. This man tells me she’s been abducted, but someone whose name he won’t say is bringing her home… Can you make sense of any of this?”
Lord Richard took a sizable swallow of brandy. “There is no sense to any of this. The important thing is that Miss Dove is safe.” He swung on Napper once more. “Does Minton live?”
“Oh, aye. He’ll live to hang,” Napper said with unusual ferocity.
For an instant, the faintest smile lightened Lord Richard’s harsh face. “I believe he will.”
“The other important thing,” Mrs. Dove said, trying to focus once more, “is the matter of my daughter’s reputation. To have it blighted by a—a bounder I foolishly believed to be a gentleman, though of little standing in the world—”
“No word of this will ever escape me,” Lord Richard interrupted. “You may likewise depend on the discretion of my…servants.”
Napper snorted and finished his tea.
“I am at a loss,” Catherine’s mother announced. “If this Minton is a bad man, what of his brother? Are there any gentlemen left in the world?” She cast a quick, appalled glance at Lord Richard. “Present company excepted, of course. I know your family to be unimpeachable on that score.”
Which was an outright lie, when she knew perfectly well that Lord Richard’s brother had been sentenced to transportation for murder and was still a fugitive.
Since everything was now likely to come out sooner rather than later, Catherine said bluntly, “My lord, how did you know Viola was missing?”
“Curiously enough, I had a message, which came indirectly from her, via an inn messenger boy, a postilion, and someone called Gavelston.”
“Gavelston?” Cousin Frank Trewthorpe suddenly jerked up his head, staring at his lordship, who lifted his eyebrows.
“I believe so, yes. Why, do you know him?”
“I know his daughter,” Frank said aggressively. “Why would she—or he!—send to you?”
“I’m not sure, but as I said, I suspect the message came indirectly from Miss Dove.”
“Viola sent to you?” Along with everyone else, Mrs. Dove stared at Lord Richard. “Why?”
Catherine sighed at the hint of speculation, even hope, in her mother’s eyes.
“I believe she thought of me as a friend with the resources to help,” Lord Richard said smoothly. “Without involving her family. For if Trewthorpe or other cousins had gone charging out of London to her rescue, people would have noticed. And talked.”
“That is very true,” Mrs. Dove said, impressed by the argument.
“There is no other attachment between us,” he added, faintly amused. “Improper or otherwise.”
“Oh.”
Lord Richard cast a sardonic look at Frank. “That goes for Miss Gavelston, as well as Miss Dove.”
“None of my business,” Frank said, flustered. “My concern—all our concern—is for Viola’s safety. Should I go and escort her from wherever she is?”
Lord Richard glanced at Napper. “Exactly how long is she likely to be?”
“Not long,” came the unhelpful reply.
“More brandy?” Catherine asked helpfully.
“Good evening,” a quiet, familiar voice said calmly.
“Good evening, dear,” Mrs. Dove replied distractedly, with barely a glance at the newcomer, before the importance of the moment finally struck her. “Viola!”
The entire family launched themselves at Viola. Naturally, Pup got there first, barking amidst the squeals of joy and the barrage of questions. But only Catherine seemed to notice that after a mere one bound and a hearty lick, he bolted out of the half-open door.
Leaving Viola to everyone else, Catherine opened the door fully.
Pup lay ecstatically on his back, legs in the air, while Lord Dominic crouched by his side, an amused smile on his lips, tickling the canine tummy. Becoming aware of Catherine’s observation, he glanced up and gave her a faint, apologetic smile, which suddenly became fixed.
He rose. Pup jumped up, capering, as though proud of being the first to have found this old friend. But everyone else now clustered in the doorway, staring at him.
“You’re Lord Dominic Gorse!” Cousin Frank exclaimed.
*
Viola and Dominic had entered the house quietly, via the mews and the kitchen door.
“I’m tired of hiding you in the cellar,” Viola had said abruptly. “We have proof of your innocence. I think it’s time we told my mother the truth.”
Dominic had hesitated as if he had grown too used to not inflicting his dangerous presence on people. “I’ll just step inside to make sure all is well with your family.”
In other words, she realized with some wonder, he wanted to be certain her family accepted her return without causing Viola further trouble. In all honesty, she knew her mother would do no worse than scold, but it was novel and sweet to be so cossetted.
As they slipped along the passage from the kitchen door, Cook, with her back to them, was grumbling about sandwiches. Viola took Dominic’s hand, loving the way his fingers curled immediately about hers, and drew him through the baize door and upstairs, toward the faint hum of voices coming from the drawing room.
But on the landing, he halted, kissed her fingers, and pushed her gently toward the drawing room door. She knew that once he’d heard her family’s acceptance, he would go. She would open the door to introduce the hero of the day to her mother, and he would be gone. She would lose this beautiful new closeness.
On impulse, she turned back, seizing his face between her hands and kissing him. His jaw was rough with stubble, his lips warm, firm, and smiling as they kissed her back. Whatever happened after this, she thought, whatever difficulties they faced in the future, she would always have this evening to remember and cherish.
She rested her forehead against his for a moment, then turned and walked into the drawing room. At her mother’s calm, distracted greeting, she wondered if anyone had actually noticed she’d been gone. Only then she realized the room was full of people, including Frank Trewthorpe, Lord Richard, and Napper, who appeared, bizarrely, to have been taking tea with her mother.
And then Pup and the children launched themselves at her, and she only just managed to stay upright, and Mama was there, too, eyes both anxious and relieved. Several times during her adventure, she had wondered if she would ever get back to them, if Minton could indeed keep her with him. So, she hugged her family back with gratitude and enthusiasm and knew, with exhaustion, that everything would be fine.
Only Catherine, evercurious, had opened the drawing room door. And now, everyone could see Dominic playing with the dog. He rose to his full height, but before he could even bow, Frank blurted out his name.
“You’re Lord Dominic Gorse!”
Lord Richard groaned, but already the children were dragging his brother into the room. Lord Richard firmly closed the door and leaned his shoulder against it.
At last, Dominic was free enough to bow to her mother. “Forgive the intrusion. I did not mean to disturb you, merely wished to see Miss Dove restored to the bosom of her family.”
Her mother looked in alarm from him to Viola and Frank.
“Lord Dominic Gorse,” Viola said firmly. “As Frank pointed out. Sir, my mother, Mrs. Dove. I should point out that Lord Dominic, together with Mr. Napper, were responsible for freeing me from abduction.”
“Then whatever else you’ve done, I have to thank you,” Mrs. Dove managed. “And you’re welcome in my house. As long as you don’t tell anyone.” Something else seemed to strike her then, and she frowned at Viola. “How do the children know him?”
“They came upon him in the cellar,” Viola said apologetically.
“In the…” Mrs. Dove sat down heavily. “Do you know, I think the strain has been too much for me.”
Catherine poured a glass of brandy and pushed it into her mother’s hand. “To restore you. Anyone else?”
“I think we’ve intruded long enough,” Dominic said hastily. “And will bid you goodnight.”
At once, Napper ambled along beside him, and Lord Richard eased his shoulder off the door.
“One thing,” Richard said. “You are all aware of my brother’s…trouble, so I will just say your discretion over the next few days will be appreciated. But we do now have evidence of his innocence which will be brought before—”
“You do?” Dominic interrupted. “So do we!”
“Then let us leave these good people and compare notes,” Lord Richard said wryly.
Dominic bowed with a flourish, winked at the children, and flashed a quick, intimate smile at Viola before he followed his brother from the room. Napper bowed awkwardly and hurried after them, muttering, “Thanks for the tea.”
“Thank you,” Viola called after him.
“Indeed,” her mother said hastily.
The silence in the room lasted until the front door closed.
“What haven’t you been telling me?” Mrs. Dove asked ominously.
“It was all quite by accident,” Viola assured her. “And it was always clear he was innocent, so though I meant to keep the children away from him, I didn’t really mind when they stumbled in. And clearly, it has all worked out for the best because if it hadn’t been for the children telling him and Napper, I’d probably be locked up in the unspeakable Minton’s house to the loss of everyone’s reputation and subsequent misery.”
Her mother blinked. Adrian grinned.
Frank said carefully, “Exactly where does Miss Gavelston fit into these events?”
“Miss Gavelston?” Viola repeated in surprise. “She doesn’t.”
There came the briefest of knocks, heralding Sarah with another tray of food, which Viola received with effusive thanks. Until she saw it, she hadn’t realized she was hungry.
“I missed dinner,” she said apologetically.
“Lord Richard Gorse,” Frank pursued, “was given a message he believed came from her uncle.”
Viola lowered her fork, her eyes widening. “That was your Miss Gavelston? How wonderful! And they did get a message back to Lord Richard!”
“It isn’t that wonderful,” Frank said resentfully. “It means her uncle has taken her away from London.”
“That is true,” Viola said thoughtfully as new ideas began to whirl in her head. “But I wonder if he might be willing to bring her back…”
Chapter Sixteen
Yawning and scratching, Dominic wandered into Richard’s sitting room the following day. “Rich, where the devil did—” He broke off, ready to beat a hasty retreat when he realized Richard had a visitor. Which was odd because he had heard no knock on the door. His mind must have been too full of Viola.
The visitor stood up and turned, just as Dominic was backing out.
“Ha!” said his father with undisguised triumph. “I knew he was harboring you here!”
“Then I suppose you have brought the Runners,” Dominic said, curling his lip. He made no move to his father, neither bowed nor approached.
“Of course, I have not brought the Runners,” Lord Sedgemoor growled. “What do you take me for?”
“I take you for the man who denied his son a fair trial for fear of embarrassment,” Dominic retorted. “Who never visited him once in prison and stood aside to let him hang.”
The old man’s face flushed, no doubt with anger rather than shame. “I saw to it you would not hang! I arranged transportation and an easy voyage at that.”
“Why, how kind,” Dominic marveled. “Or would have been had I actually killed anyone.”
“Yes, well, how was I supposed to know that? You’d gone to the devil, Dominic, and you never told me you hadn’t done it.”
Dominic stared at him, his lips thinning. “I shouldn’t have had to tell you.”
His father turned away. “Perhaps not,” he admitted, taking Dominic by surprise. “I have made many mistakes with you. I know you think I should have bought you a commission and sent you off to war, like Richard.”
“Well, and look how I turned out,” Richard said impatiently. “Do we have to go over ancient ground yet again?”
“I only bring it up before he does!” their father shot back. “If it’s any consolation, Dominic, I realized when they locked you up that I should have bought you that commission after all. It is fatal to leave a young man of your energies on the town with nothing to do but rake up hell. I was trying to make it right, give you another chance in Australia. And in any case, once you were gone, I meant to fight behind the scenes for your pardon.”
“An innocent man doesn’t need a pardon,” Dominic said coldly.
“No, he needs evidence,” Richard intervened. “Which we now have. Sit down, Dom, and stop bearing grudges. Our father thought he was acting for the best. We all did, as you know. We all freely apologize. Papa has already set the wheels in motion to have you freed, but in the meantime, we should consider how best to have Minton face the rightful charges.”
“The difficulty,” his father said, sitting down again in the most comfortable chair, “is doing so before the Runners find you. I would suggest we stop them looking.”
Dominic couldn’t help it. He walked further into the room and sat down. “How?”
*
It wasn’t entirely surprising that Viola rose later than usual the day after her adventure. Her family tiptoed around, letting her sleep. In fact, she was wide awake, pressed into the pillows and smiling as she recalled in delicious detail, not her abduction, but Dominic’s rescue, his kisses, every word, every touch, and embrace.
And he wanted to marry her once his innocence was proved, and he was free to marry. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined anyone like Dominic would fall in love with her. Of course, there was no one else like Dominic, but still… In truth, she had never actually imagined she could fall in love with anyone. No one had ever affected her as Dominic did. He, this feeling, completely overwhelmed her and yet made her deliriously happy.
She threw the covers off at last and hummed some of the music she recalled from last night, while she washed and dressed and combed her hair. No one else was in the breakfast parlor when she went downstairs, but she was still eating when Amelia Hornchurch swept in.
“Viola, thank God!” she exclaimed, throwing herself in the chair beside her. “What in the world have you been up to?”
“What do you mean?” Viola asked warily.
“Your cousin Frank called on us yesterday at a very odd hour and asked some even odder questions! Eventually, it transpired he was trying to find out if you were with us, which of course, you weren’t. But I had the devil of a job explaining to Matthew—who has come home, by the way, and everything was wonderful until Frank Trewthorpe turned up and made him jealous.”
“Jealous?” Viola repeated, following the tale with difficulty. “Because he was looking for me? Oh, no, Amelia, you must have that wrong.”
“No, no,” Amelia said impatiently. “Matthew was suspicious of Frank and thought you were Frank’s excuse for turning up. Mind you, I don’t entirely blame Matthew for thinking Frank’s visit suspicious, for he did seem very awkward, not to say furtive!”
“Oh dear, this hasn’t really caused more trouble for you, has it?” Viola said guiltily.
“Oh, no, I petted Matthew out of it, if you must know.”
“Good, because I assure you Frank’s affections are engaged quite elsewhere. In fact, although he is more or less the same age as you and me, I have a feeling he regards us very much as older women.”
Amelia giggled and helped herself to a slice of toast while Viola poured her some tea. “Yes, but where were you?” Amelia demanded, coming back to her original question. “To have got your cousin so anxious to find you?” She lowered her voice. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Lord Dominic Gorse, does it?”
“Well, actually, yes, sort of. But if I tell you this, Amelia, you really mustn’t tell a soul, for if it gets out, we shall all be ruined, and Lord Dominic could be executed before we’ve even proved his innocence.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. “You know I’d never tell a soul! But if you don’t tell me, Vee, I shall die of curiosity.”
As Viola told the tale, Amelia’s jaw showed a tendency to drop, and by the end, her eyes were positively popping.
“Oh my!” she exclaimed at last. “How wonderfully, madly, recklessly romantic of you to end up at Maida Gardens where you first met! I am so jealous of this adventure of yours! But Viola, do you actually love him?”
There was a rare streak of worry in Amelia’s expression. But they had been in the habit of telling each other everything since childhood, so Viola nodded.
“Do you think,” Amelia asked hesitantly, “that he loves you? He is a frightful rake, you know.”
“I do know.”
“And neither of you has a fortune, by all accounts. Perhaps you could live in a garret in Paris, among the artists. That would be romantic.”
“But probably quite uncomfortable,” Viola said, laughing. “I am not thinking about the future, for once—at least not beyond seeing Dominic acquitted. I shall just enjoy the present. Now, tell me about Matthew and how you made it up. Do you think you understand each other better now?”
